James Chase - Tell It to the Birds

“Look, palsy…” Hogan began, then stopped as Anson motioned him to silence.

The two of them watched him move around the room. He pulled aside the sideboard and looked behind it. He began a slow, systematic search of the room. The whiteness of his face and his despairing expression made both Hogan and Meg remain motionless and silent. Finally, Anson discovered the microphone. It was concealed behind the radiator; its wire lead going out of the window and into the darkness of the garden.

Anson stared at the microphone, furious with himself for falling for such a trick. And I was crazy enough to think I could outwit this devil, Maddox, he thought. Between the three of us, we have now talked ourselves into the gas chamber.

“What the hell’s going on?” Hogan demanded, unnerved by the way Anson was acting. “What is it?”

Again Anson motioned him to silence and then he beckoned. Moving cautiously, Hogan approached and Anson pointed to the microphone. He put his hand on Hogan’s arm motioning him to say nothing.

Hogan stared at the microphone as if it was a deadly snake. Sweat burst out on his battle scarred face. Meg moved forward. When she saw the microphone, she stifled a scream.

Hogan turned on her viciously and slapped her across the face, sending her reeling back.

“You smart, stupid bitch!” he yelled at her. “Look at that! So you thought you could fix it!”

“Stop it,” Anson said. He walked heavily over to the fire and bending down he thrust his hands towards the flames. He felt cold and sick, “Well, it didn’t come off,” he went on, staring into the fire. “At least, it wasn’t a bad try. If this stupid woman had only told me the truth… if she had admitted she had a record, I’d never have gone ahead with this thing As soon as Maddox know what she was, he set this trap and we’ve walked into it. He never intended to pay the claim. This was his trick to get me out here and set us all talking. We’re on tape! We have talked ourselves into the gas chamber!”

“Not me!” Hogan snarled, wiping his sweating face. “I have an alibi! They can’t touch me! To hell with you two! I’m in the clear!”

Meg turned on him; her face white and terrified. “Jerry! I did this for you! You were going to have the money! You agreed! You can’t walk out on me now. I love you! We’ve got to face this together!”

Hogan’s face was now a frightened, white mask. “Love? You? Do you imagine I ever wanted anything to do with you, you cheap whore, except what I could get out of you? I was planning to take the money and then I would have ditched you! I have all the women I want without getting snarled up with a dead-beat floosie like you. You and your sucker can go to hell!”

“Keep talking,” Anson said in a cold, flat voice. “It’s all being recorded. Just keep talking.”

Neither Hogan nor Meg bothered to listen to what he said. Meg had run over to Hogan and had caught hold of him. He threw her off.

“Get away from me!” Hogan snarled, and he started for the door.

Anson’s hand closed around the butt of Barlowe’s gun. He pulled it from his pocket and offered it to Meg.

“Kill him,” he said. “He isn’t fit to live!”

Hogan whirled round as Meg, gripping the gun, lifted it and pointed it at him. His face went slack with fright as he stared at the gun in Meg’s hand.

“No! Don’t do it!” he exclaimed, his voice shooting up. “Meg!”

“Your yellow boy friend,” Anson said softly and reaching forward, he took the gun from Meg’s shaking hand. The sight of the terror on Hogan’s face did much to repay that moment in the garage when Hogan had terrified him.

Hogan backed away, sweat running down his face, his breath coming in heavy gasps. As he moved unsteadily into the lobby, the front door bell rang.

Anson said quietly, “Here they are; Jenson, Harmas and the rest of them.”

Hogan came back into the sitting-room. He looked wildly around.

“Let them in,” Anson said, smiling at him. He was now very quiet and calm. “Then try to talk yourself out of all this.

You won’t! Nor will she! You both have said enough to put you in the gas chamber… go ahead… let them in!”

As the front door bell rang again, Anson put the barrel of the gun into his mouth, and still smiling at Hogan, pulled the trigger.